Twelve Tones
by Kupo Stiltzkin
Summary: For each division of Gotei 13 have their own story. -8: Ise Nanao, Yadomaru Risa and Kyouraku Shunsui, and leaving behind a legacy.-
1. 6th Division

Disclaimer: Bleach 2002-2005 © Kubo Tite

**6th Division**

_Summary: Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya and the duties of a vice captain with the topic of over spiciness at a local sushi bar. Set Pre Soul-Society._

-

It was right after his promotion to sixth division's vice captain, and before the retrieval of Kuchiki Rukia, that Renji learned about the eating habit of his well respected captain.

Abarai Renji never has and never will adore spicy food – he hated how they burned his tongue and made his eyes water. He'd perspire like he had gone into an overheated sauna, with his dampened shinigami robe attached right on his torso – a feeling that he'd never ever like. He didn't want to show other shinigamis a face as red as Zabimaru's ass - they would certainly shove him into Gotei 13's Hall of Shame if he ever confirmed that kind of look. And Captain Kuchiki certainly wouldn't like his subordinate acting like a cat being thrown alive into boiling water. He learned this from Rukia who had tried stuffing him with grinded red peppers on his lunch in their academy days – Rukia had a tendency to laugh out loud when he started lunging for any water or ice nearby. Once, she had purposely and secretly boiled every drinking water available in the vicinity and Renji thought that he had died again when he accidentally gulped the hot water while Rukia was rolling on the floor, laughing her ass off.

He really missed those good old days.

But Renji learned about his duties as a newly promoted vice captain, keeping a straight face that he would someday show to Rukia once he's capable of facing her with a raised chin. Half of Gotei 13's vice captain are females – they heal, latch onto their captain's back, throw flower petals on battlegrounds, they support their captains in their own unique way – though Renji could never understand why Captain Kyouraku's sense of beauty requires Ise Nanao to decorate flower petals on his background. He certainly couldn't just latch himself on Byakuya's back like how Yachiru gave off direction to her Ken-chan from on top of his shoulder. How he would love his captain's reaction if he ever addressed Byakuya with that honorific. But Renji feared he would never live the day to see that response from his captain, priceless as it be.

Though a vice captain's the closest person in the division to their own respective captains, Renji knew there'll always be that gap between him and the captain. His captain was the most honored captain in the Gotei 13 after Yamamoto Genryuusai Shigekuni himself, and though Kuchiki Byakuya nodded his head in approval when Renji clawed his way to the 2nd seat of his division, he saw Byakuya doing it from his soaring, honored seat of the noble Kuchiki household. When the order for Rukia's retrieval came, he was vehemently shocked and waited in fear or excitement as he saw it, and trudged behind Kuchiki Byakuya with his scarf swaying along with summer night's wind, mocking Renji with the soft, hissing noises every time Byakuya turned his neck slightly to check if Renji was still there with him or if the Hollows had finished him off.

What shocked him really was how Byakuya stopped in front of a fishy looking shop in the corner, with a cracked and worn out 'Urahara sushi' board in front of the shabby building. It was the first time ever that he saw Byakuya showing such an interest over something so simple, and Renji craned his neck to look inside the sushi shop, with a wooden bar and boards of sushi types plastered on the walls. It was not more interesting than any other sushi shop, and no customer was seen inside, even though the 'open' sign was hanging cheerily on the door, with a big word of 'Welcome' on the brown rug. Though, he wondered about the name Urahara that almost rings a bell.

"Do you like raw food, Renji?"

Kuchiki Byakuya has a tendency to talk necessarily. But Renji had learned how his captain's words have hidden meaning in almost every syllable, and in this case, it was _I'm going to eat here. Whether you like it or not, you have to follow me_. This was the also first time captain ever questioned or considered his taste or his choice in anything, but Renji found no chance to rejoice that Byakuya has a new found respect for him, and he forced an awkward nod when he saw Byakuya straining a confirmation from him out of the corner of his eyes.

"Welcome!"

A greet came from behind the wooden counter, and a man with a bulky build appeared with a wooden container filled with warm rice in his hands. Byakuya already took his seat before the man asked him to, and Renji has no choice but to follow. A vice captain didn't need to question their captain, in whatever decision or circumstances. Souls won't get hungry and they don't need to eat unless they used their spiritual powers. Renji was sure that he doesn't need to tell Byakuya this, as he sat on one of the stools right in front of the counter.

Renji's eyes almost jumped out of their socket when he saw Byakuya emptied half of the wasabi's tube into the small tray, and dip the sushi into it.

He was sure as hell that the moment that piece of fish touched his tongue, his face would be as red as Zabimaru's ass. Why, might be even redder than his ass, he thought!

But Kuchiki Byakuya chewed the sushi and swallowed it like a piece of mildly grilled chicken, and Renji knew his captain was indeed a masochist.

"Why, aren't you one of a kind, sir? That wasabi is our store owner's latest invention, the wasabi with tenth time spiciness of the normal wasabi. Humans would die with a tongue the size of their torso the moment they taste it!" The man (Tessai, was it?) stared at Byakuya with an interest. Renji could swear he saw Tessai's eyes twinkled merrily under the glasses. "Do you like it?"

"I don't dislike it," Byakuya replied, dipping his fresh salmon into the wasabi saucer again, and Renji winced until he felt that his tattooed brows were connecting.

"Why aren't you eating, Renji?"

Renji gulped inadvertently. Certainly the captain had checked his resume and took a glance on the list of his none favorite food?

"I…uh, I don't like spicy food, Captain."

"Eat." _We have much time and many hollows to hunt. I don't want to hear you complain._

"But---"

Renji looked in horror as Byakuya dipped the next sushi piece and placed it on his plate. The fresh salmon's pinkness glimmered appealingly under the thick, green spicy paste he feared to munch so much, he thought, though it wasn't the right time to do that and he swallowed hard.

_Maybe I can just pretend to place it in my mouth and pretend to swallow_. Then Renji realized the damage potency of how a piece of fish covered with one kilogram of wasabi could do inside his mouth, and with a tongue more sensitive to spiciness ever. God, a sensitive man would be tearing up and screaming like a demi hollow for months. But he would scream even louder. Renji inspected the table, and saw the only drink they provided was just a normal warm green tea, and it burned his palm the moment he gripped the cup. Byakuya sipped the boiling tea delicately and asked for a refill in his own fashionable way.

"Eat the sushi, Renji." _This is an **order**._

Reluctantly, Renji retrieved a new saucer, filled it with soy sauce, and before he knew it, the shopkeeper had added a nice amount of wasabi into it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, asshole?.!"

"Why, dear customer, you need to taste our superb and one of a kind wasabi – it'll be a shame of a lifetime if you never got to eat this," Something flickered behind Tessai's glasses, and he raised one of his thumbs, "It'll be an _unforgettable_ experience for you."

Preparing his chopsticks, he finally took a final look on the raw fish. He wondered what it would feel like to die again. And this time, he'd die with regrets and a burned tongue.

"I need to ask you a question, Renji."

Renji looked over to see Byakuya concentrating on his cup, and blinked. "Yes, Captain?"

"Do you like my sister?"

Abarai Renji never expected this sort of question from anyone, especially his captain. It was something he dreaded since his first meeting with Rukia, and Byakuya didn't even turn to glance at him. But Renji felt his heart quickening with every beat, and he laughed nervously to brush off the tension that followed the question.

"Wh-what are you talking about, Captain?"

But Byakuya didn't buy his act, and the captain this time placed down his empty tea cup quietly, and turned his face to stare at Renji straight in the eyes.

Looking for means of escape, Renji searched around and found the piece of food left forgotten between his chopsticks. Shoving the food quickly into his mouth, Renji felt a familiar tinge of sourness, and less than a second later the spiciness exploded in his mouth, spreading with lightning speed to his ears and nostrils. Quickly, he lunged for the nearest drink and gulped the warm tea that he sprayed out instantly. Tessai got out of his tea-spray right in time, and as the tea splashed all over the raw fish, Renji could hear Byakuya grunting.

"The hell is this tea?" Renji pointed the tea cup indignantly. "It's hot! No, extremely HOT!"

"But dear guest, you always need boiling water to make tea. And this mister over here has no problem drinking it." Tessai motioned slightly to Byakuya, who was gulping his tenth cup for the night.

_Don't you dare confuse me with that stoic faced masochist_, Renji thought.

As if reading his mind, Byakuya took the bill and placed it beside Renji's plate. "Since you threw up your tea all over our food, the bill's on you tonight."

For a while, Renji was certain he screamed like a demi hollow.

-

When they left the sushi parlor an hour later, Renji hoped with all his might if there was a time that he can do Hitsugaya's Hyourinmaru, it would be now. He won't need his tongue anymore, anyway. The wasabi has numbed his tongue.

"They can see us."

He stopped fanning his out-stretched tongue and looked up to stare at the 'six' kanji printed on Byakuya's back. "Excuse me, sir?"

"The people in that shop can see us, Shinigamis."

When Renji turned around, there was no shop there, but what was left was an empty field. A black cat jumped out from behind one of the garbage can, and disappeared around the corner.

-

"He said that he doesn't dislike your wasabi, manager."

"Just exactly what I expected from the Young Master, after all," Urahara flipped out his fan, "But I don't think this line of business is suitable for me. Don't you think so, Tessai?"

"No matter what I say, you won't change your decision, sir."

Urahara Kisuke laughed and flapped his fan lightly.


	2. 3rd Division

**3rd division **

_Summary: Kira Izuru, Ichimaru Gin, and the various forms of protecting. Spoilers up to ch. 180._

**- **

As soon as he graduated from Shinou Academy, Kira Izuru grew his hair to the point where one of his bangs eventually covered one of his eyes. It helped him be even more unreadable, the very view of him in remorse which accentuated the fact that he's droopy eyed, and before he knew it, he's made a habit of replying at people by facing them with his side, eventually looking at them from the corner of his eyes.

There were two things Izuru noticed when he got the transfer to the 3rd division as the 2nd seat.

Though he was sad that he couldn't see Hinamori as much as he used to, he accepted the promotion with a big heart. He felt a slight drop of jealousy for Hinamori that stayed under the patient, soft-spoken Captain Aizen's wing.

Captain Ichimaru has a distinguished face, and had it been two slits in place of where his nose supposed to be, Izuru would have mistaken him as a snake. He liked to describe his captain as breathtaking in a bad way, if it was the sincerest form he could offer for the term captivatingly creepyAnd though he was perfectly sure the man didn't have a pointy and parted tongue, the captain spoke with the audacity. Officers from other divisions gave Ichimaru nicknames that he knew too well, some Izuru frowned upon, and others that he couldn't help but chuckled at helplessly.

He still remembered his first memory of that man, the way his Initial Release pierced through the skull of a Huge Hollow, how he handled the Hollows that slaughtered almost every students like they were a swarm of houseflies with his deceivingly frail, lean build. _Monsters_, Abarai had commented. Today, Izuru shuddered at the truth of his words and the wrongness for ever wishing that he could ever be as proficient as that.

For someone who lived with his eyes closed, Ichimaru Gin was a dreadfully perceptive man and immaculately knew how to leave a lasting impression on people's soul.

The vice captain meeting was also held on his promotion day, and he met his fellow 2nd seats for the first time. Hinamori was the first one to congratulate him, and Hisagi slapped his back proudly. Izuru felt gleaming under the attention, and was sure he was the star of the day as they crowded around him, until Iba along with Hisagi instantly looked away from him to stare at the newcomer at the door sill.

Matsumoto Rangiku was an undeniably attractive woman. She was the type of person that you'd looked at twice if you encounter her at the streets, most probably craned your neck long enough to stare at her until she was gone in the crowd and you found yourself stumbling down the sidewalk, falling face first.

Six pair of eyes belonging to male vice captains bore to her (and the area where her gold necklace fell perfectly in-between and the incredible way her uniform fit snugly into every possible curves) as Matsumoto tossed her head, sending the waist-length blonde hair flowing back in an eye-catching array. She noticed Izuru with his new badge, and beamed like it was his birthday. "Oh my God, Kira," she said, placing a hand on her hip and scanning him from head to toe. "You're starting to look like a cockroach with that hair style."

The way she hurled truth in every word was exactly the way he'd depict the woman: too hot to handle and too cold to hold.

"To 3rd Division vice Captain Kira Izuru," Hisagi announced sometime later, raising his cup. "May you have endless paperwork and your captain's a tightwad that the only pay raise you ever gonna get is once a decade!"

The rest of the vice captains laughed and clattered their cups together. "Cheers!"

"But Ichimaru Gin, eh..." Iba started while Izuru was halfway sipping his sake. "Good luck, Kira. You're gonna need it."

Nemu looked at him with distinct approval.

"What do you mean?" Izuru cast the rest of them a look, and Hinamori suddenly started busying herself with the hem of her robe.

"Let me give you a good example here," Hisagi reached over and filled his cup again. "Last time Hinamori talked to him, she was sure she will never look at Captain Aizen the same way anymore."

Izuru shook his head. "I still don't get it. He might look..." he fumbled for a word that would sound less discourteous, and felt the chronic jitters attacking him. "--unique, but-"

Oomaeda guffawed, sending a shower of chips from his open mouth. "Unique? He's freaky, man, f-r-e-a-k-y!"

"It's not just his appearance," Isane started carefully. "I always have this feeling of being... gutted alive every time he started talking to captain Unohana."

"Yeah, and without lifting a finger..." Iba murmured.

"You're bloody mentally scarred for life." Hisagi finished.

Yachiru jumped up to Iba's shoulder and perched on the bar's counter. "And you're gonna have to cling on to that creepy Gin-kun's back, Kiraaa, 24/7." Her giggle wasn't comforting.

Ise's silence as she sipped her tea gave an aura of consent to their words.

At that point, Kira took it that it was a really bad idea to tell his fellow vice captains that he actually looked up to Ichimaru.

Matsumoto placed her cup down; cheeks flushed, and waved them over like she's going to share a big secret. The rest of the officers closed in around her, clearly excited with anything she might share over the subject. Izuru waited quietly for the final blow to come. "Have you guys heard about," she paused, as if searching through her memory, "that boy genius who might get nominated to be my captain's replacement..."

-

"Do ya understand me, Izuru?"

Kira wasn't sure how to react. Time and time he had proved his loyalty for his captain, yet deeply he knew what Ichimaru was ordering was simply impossible. He had known Hitsugaya Toushirou as Hinamori's neighbor and his talent years even before he graduated from the academy, despite the lack of experience, and his rapid rise to the highest ranks in Gotei 13 that earned him such a heavy nickname. He had been competing with Hitsugaya in secret for Hinamori's attention, and none of them has rose as a victor. He's aware and hated to admit it, but if anyone was more capable of protecting Hinamori than him, it would be the young captain himself. Physically, Izuru might be taller, but how could he ever wish to defeat such a genius in other aspects? For now, he could revel at the thought that Hinamori's affectionate look wasn't directed at Hitsugaya. Yet.

Ichimaru touched his shoulder reassuringly, and Izuru fought off the impulsive need to brush his hand aside. "If yer worried 'bout Mr. Captain o' the 10th division, then don't. Jes' leave 'im to me."

Izuru's breath caught midway up his throat, and he found no power to nod or sputter. Last night, for the very first time he had seen Captain Ichimaru faltered—probably the only time he would see him done so--but at the same time, Izuru was sure his captain wasn't completely heartless.

"All ya hafta do is stop his vice captain at all cost," The leer attempted to split Ichimaru's face into two. "I'll give ya my word: I-ain't-gonna-lay-a-finger-on-Hinamori-chan."

Yes, he can do this, Izuru told himself and forced a nod. He almost pulled back when Ichimaru's hand leisurely trailed up his neck, reaching out skeletal fingers to pat his cheek in an almost paternal way. "Atta boy. I'm countin' on ya."

Izuru was tired at making choices—loyalty was one thing they taught at the academy, and obedience was a trait that his late parents meant him to follow. He didn't know what Captain Ichimaru was planning with Hinamori, but as a man, Izuru would protect his beloved in his own way.

It took him one fight with Matsumoto Rangiku to comprehend that his captain's order was of one as well.

-

Post all the treachery that left him battered against a wall and a leaderless division, Izuru wasn't sure what wrecked him more: Ichimaru betraying his promise or his own choice of loyalty that made Hinamori comatose for days and would probably be _forever_. He didn't want to question whatever's left of his sanity. The truth alone made him wandering outside the 4th division's building for days.

"Did you see her?"

Abarai Renji was halfway down the hospital's short flight of stairs when Izuru careened towards his former classmate. The red head's instant reaction was a pummel on his waist and shouted, "Ya moron!"

"Wh-why did you do that, Abarai?"

"Go in and see her NOW! Stop being such a wuss!" Renji commanded, pointing an indignant finger. And then he added, with a less irritated tone, "Else you might regret it."

Izuru knew his friend was more than acquainted with the idea of waiting—he was fumbling for a reply when he spotted Hitsugaya Toushirou stepping out to the morning sun. They exchanged a minute of not-so-pleasant look. The very first thing the young captain did next was advance to his place with an icy stare while Kira could only think of dying from terrible frost bite. Unfortunately, Renji has somehow locked his arms and Izuru tried escaping futilely from his grasp. Fortunately, all Hitsugaya did was jump up and hit his head irately. It worked. Izuru stopped fidgeting.

"Either you come in or you get the hell out of here," the white haired boy pointed crossly to the hospital with his thumb, "Or I swear I'm gonna...hit you again."

There's no accusation or anger in the young captain's eyes; only the slight irritated twitch of his eyebrows as Izuru started fingering Wabisuke's hilt again, as if expecting the force to make himself kneel over and plead for absolution. "Captain Hitsugaya, I-"

"I'm not the one who you should be apologizing to, Kira."

In a way, his look had aided more than verbal means would have difficulty in reaching.

But the officers of 10th division never mentioned he was guilty as charged. The fact that they're probably the ones that could understand his feelings the most or how they probably felt more betrayed and helpless than him from the turn of events didn't console or discourage Izuru. He wondered if Wabisuke's ability had started applying on him as well, the drowsy look of misery that weighed more on him than his opponents.

When murmuring the name of one's former leader became a taboo in every corner of Soul Society, Matsumoto found it as a new hobby. Finding solace in the unlikeliest of places, he was also criminally pleased at Matsumoto's idea of loosening up: warm, warm, infinite amount of sake.

Five minutes into it, Izuru was more than convinced that she used the mourning period to escape work. He had heard the rumors, saw his comrades' embarrassment as they sported only undies home after every futile attempt at the bars, now he was experiencing it himself: the woman didn't know the word drunk.

"Don't you get sick of it, Matsumoto?" Izuru enunciated from the floor, looking at the upside down view of her on the chair. The floor felt cold on his bare back, his stomach churning from the burn of liquor.

He heard the slight creak as she got up from her seat. "You'll get used to it," her tone was slightly slurred and suspiciously nasal, and he suspected that Matsumoto chose to drown in liquor instead of tears for the last seven days. "...eventually." He knew why: though dry easily, they left irremovable stains.

With the liquor in his system, Izuru wasn't sure she meant Ichimaru or sake or feeling betrayed or getting left behind—he settled for all. Then he looked up, and was greeted with the view that most of Gotei 13's male occupants would drool all over as Matsumoto crouched in front of him—while they certainly were alluring, he had found Matsumoto's frontal view as intimidating.

She drew back her hand and slowly said, "Rock Paper Scissors!" and produced her out-stretched palm on Izuru's fist. "I win. Lose the pants, Kira."

He didn't know why he didn't have the will or the courage to refuse, fending her and her fraud off, along with the smile that looked so cunning and charming at the same time.

Being wayward could be the start of a mutiny.


	3. 13th Division

_Summary: Shiba Kaien and Ukitake Jyuushirou, attending a not so joyous wedding at the Kuchiki house. Spoilers up to ch 201. _

_- _

Rumors have it that Kuchiki Byakuya, the renowned 28th Head of the Kuchiki family finally chose his bride.

So Shiba Kaien chose to go in his best robe that night, vice captain badge safely placed inside his drawer instead on his arm, tucked Ganjyu to bed and promised Kuukaku some munchies from the wedding. Ukitake reminded him that tonight was a special night for Byakuya and _please, do behave_, no matter how strong was the urge to draw his fist into people's face.

Lately, it's been getting difficult for Kaien to shove his foot up Kuchiki's face, as Byakuya certainly never seemed to stop training his flash-steps.

But he definitely has to go. Tonight might be the perfect timing to witness a miracle. For many years, Kaien had expected Byakuya's choice in spouse would be like his choice of words and wardrobe; a prim, fair-faced noble woman with shaved brows and blackened teeth, hair flowing like stream, delicate fingers and features so hard and fragile at the same time she could be mistaken as a porcelain doll. Kinda like the one they always put out for the Hinamatsuri. It would be reasonable choice for a Kuchiki, after all.

Imagine Kaien's surprise when he heard that the future bride was from Rukongai, and even worse, stuck-up-always-goes-by-the-book Byakuya had even gone up to his parents, insisting to legalize his relationship with the woman. Kuchiki Byakuya, choosing his feelings over the law. The idea made Kaien's head spin and before he knew it, he was already doubling over, clutching his aching sides. Needless to say, other than shocked, Kaien was happy for the man. More than interested to find out about the lady that had surprisingly thawed the iceberg, he lured Byakuya into introducing him to his betrothed, and didn't expect any confirmation.

His first meeting with Hisana was a day to remember.

_She was nothing like he had predicted. In his mind, the woman has the radiating beauty of a goddess, slightly tinged cheeks, movements that whispered only divinity (or well endowed, at least). Instead, she has frail, bird like figure, hair as dark and stiff as charcoal, and he couldn't see her face because her neck was bent, eyes staying at the floor instead of her guests' face, perfectly obscured through the means of her unruly bangs. First introductions were exchanged and tea was poured. _

_"Hisana has heard much from Lord Byakuya about you, Lord Shiba." _

_"Really?" The question was laced with much curiosity. Not far from her, Kaien could see Byakuya fawning over, and he could swear Kuchiki was posing. "I bet he has many nasty things to say about me." _

_"On the contrary," her amused look was apparent. "I was told that you are a lively and unconventional man. Lord Shiba reminded him of a firework and my Lord admired that." _

_She looked up, eyes wide and curious. Scarlet Truth, freedom he could never spoke of without restraint, gently personified. Silently, Kaien thought of reminding Byakuya that wildflowers never bested well tended gardens. _

It was less than a decade later that Kaien comprehended why, from their first meeting, Hisana especially admired his bond with his younger siblings.

"Have you ever met Byakuya's future wife, Captain?"

Ukitake's shook of head confirmed Kaien's suspicion. "No," Here he paused to pull out a handkerchief from his sleeve to cough into it. "To be honest, I was kind of surprised to hear the rumors."

"He's absolutely crazy for her," Kaien snickered as the gates of Kuchiki house loomed over.

The white haired captain laughed at this. "Just like what you have for our miss third seat?"

Kaien fought a blush from prevailing over his cheeks with mixed success, and made a mental note to bash Sentarou's head along with his big mouth into a concrete wall later.

-

When dinner was served, Kaien studied the bride's features after her white veil was removed, and she followed Byakuya as he entered the hall.

"Look at her," A woman in flashy robes and heady perfume beside Kaien's seat whispered to her husband, flipping a feathered fan in shocking pink. "She's not even that good-looking. How could that peasant compare to our Maremi?"

"Patience. It won't be long before Lord Kuchiki sees her value and chuck her out."

Kaien's empty dinner tray stared back at him as the nobles cussed at Hisana's lineage and worth, some predicted that she was descended from the sewer rats, and some others calculated she'd be thrown out before the end of spring. The look on Byakuya's face—though it was no different than any other day--seemed ready and perceivable, as if he was expecting the consequences as Hisana poured him another cup of tea with a firm movement.

"This feels more like a funeral than a wedding."

Ukitake placed his chopsticks down. "Kaien--"

"I know."

The night grew late, and as each of the guests left one by one after congratulating the bride and groom, Kaien found himself slouching against a far corner of the room, showering in the rays of full moon and engorging himself in liquor. Food was never scarce in the noble house of Kuchiki, one of the very few qualities he found amusing.

He was thinking of smuggling the winter crabs inside his robes when a middle aged woman with elaborate robes advanced toward Hisana with a leer. From his distance, Kaien couldn't hear their words, but he didn't miss the old lady flapping her fan rudely at the petite woman, and Hisana's fists clenched, her soft features contorted in the way of an angered bull. For a second, he was sure that Hisana was drawing back her hand in preparation for an attack.

This didn't go unnoticed by Byakuya, who was leaving his seat and Kaien had only seen his current look once—when he had gone and defeated Byakuya in a spar and sent him tumbling back unceremoniously in a heap. Things had gone ugly in an instant, and the word 'Ban-' was on the tip of his tongue.

There's only one thing for him to do.

**BOOM **

Half of the guests and residents in Kuchiki House looked up in time to see a bright red-yellowish firework flinging up the night sky. The rest only watched as Kaien pulled out one, after another of his secret stash from the inside of his robes.

Then he glanced inside the house, and saw Hisana and the woman standing apart from each other, eyes widening to the man, the impending quarrel forgotten.

Standing beside the pond, was Ukitake, face in his hand, grinning at him through his fingers. The head of the Kuchiki house loomed at his bride's side, wearing the accustomed mask. Kaien allowed himself an admission of gratitude as the bride smiled.

-

"Lord Shiba?"

There, in white bride robe, Hisana stood with hands clasped in front of her, and bowed deeply. Letting out a genuinely content smile in her direction, he returned her gesture.

"I wanted to thank you, Lord Shiba. The fireworks had been accommodating," she said, flinging her elaborate sleeves with delicate movements.

Under the spring's full moon, Kaien finally has a good look on the bride's face--she wasn't extremely beautiful, but her lines shone with a certain kind of splendor. "No, no! It's just that I felt it was too quiet and wanted to liven up the situation. Sorry I messed up your garden." He waved his hands off. "And please, call me Kaien."

"My lord Byakuya said that it was all right. He said the fireworks were very much like you, Lord Shi—I mean, Sir Kaien." Here, the petite woman ducked her head slightly and a tint of scarlet blemished her cheeks, a soft giggle broke out of her.

Their conversation was interrupted by Byakuya's quiet approaching footsteps—Kaien has always found that Kuchiki walks like he's gliding—the stylish means ducklings use to make their way on top of the pond's surface. Mr. Snob's retort was that Kaien's manner of walking was like taking a hike. The topic never surfaced between them anymore ever since.

"Glad you made it here," Byakuya greeted, giving them a slight, almost unseen nod of acknowledgement. "Captain Ukitake. And _you_."

Kaien felt his vein slightly twigging at the remark. "_You_? Just you? I bust up my best robes trying to brighten your wedding, and a 'you' is all I get. Gee, a small 'thanks' won't really kill you. Dumbass."

"You have," Byakuya stretched a hand over his garden, at the broken miniature stone pagodas, the elaborately formed sand lines utterly ruined, the fish pond filled with ashes and broken branches from the plum trees. "--damaged my property publicly on my wedding day and expect me to express my appreciation?"

Ukitake's laugh was annoyingly clear from his back and Kaien mentally reached for Nejibana to just smack his hilt on Byakuya's face—only to realized he had left him at home in respect for his old friend. But Kaien noticed, that Byakuya had sent his bride for conveying the message Kuchiki could never tell him. He knew better than anyone else, it'd probably take half of Byakuya's pride to ever bow his head to him.

"Tch. Whatever." Kaien scratched his head, and bent over until his eye level reached Hisana's. "Remember, if this idiot ever breaks your heart or makes you cry, you can always count on me." He pounded on his chest proudly, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll whoop his ass in no time."

Byakuya's look turned from stoic to mildly irritated, and Hisana let out a small chuckle. "I will remember that, Sir Kaien. You have my full gratitude."

Kaien took a step back, preparing to leave, and much to his surprise and horror, he saw that Byakuya's body was actually bent, his head slightly facing the ground. Finding himself bereft of any suitable verbal abuse, and all Kaien could think of was how Yoruichi would definitely kill for this dear moment, watching her little Byakuya bowing.

"Thank you for coming, Kaien."

It took Kaien more than a minute to finally reply, with a voice that sounded like a stranger's in his ears. "...Yeah."

-

_Snow is Winter's version of Summer's beautiful day. _

Was what Ukitake Jyuushirou thought as he glanced at his subordinate's bowed head, fingers neatly stretched in front of her as she took a deep bow. Kaien had never been a poet, but at the sight of Sodeno Shirayuki, he fawned over and proclaimed his undying love at her beauty in thirteen different proverbs that he had miraculously invented in less than a minute.

With a frayed body like his, Ukitake never hoped to outlive any of his subordinates—but he did, twice, and almost did it thrice. When she finally looked up, Kuchiki Rukia has a different look than the last spring he had sent her off to the Living World. Last time, she had gazed at him with the look of someone who's been standing in an endless rain. Last time, she was fetched by her brother and her childhood friend to an impending death sentence.

"Say, Kuchiki..."

"Captain?"

Ukitake willed a weak smile to stretch on his face, seeing an apparition of Kaien's spirit gleaming in her. "Do you want to take the test for the vice captain seat?"

It was a warm summer day on early September, and Ukitake had opened the windows for a nice, cool breeze. But Rukia's fingers trembled significantly as his words slowly drenched in like a sudden blizzard, and he witnessed the memory overwhelming Kuchiki, the night where the rain tasted like tears and Kaien's blood weighing down his captain's cloak. Every far-off memory stung at the corner of his eyes, and two millennias have been way too long to reassemble his recollections.

In the background, Sentarou and Kiyone were arguing over the moralities of peeking, and the disparities between overhearing and eavesdropping.

Rukia opened her mouth, and no words came out. Only a slightly hitched breath escaped from her as she ducked her face again. "You have overestimated me, Captain. Such expectations—I'm sorry I have to disappoint you."

"I'll talk to Byakuya about it. But of course, you also have to compete with Sentarou and Kiyone. They're going to be tough competition."

His subordinate looked at him, grim and pale, fingers furling into fists.

"We need to prepare," Ukitake waited until the torrents in her subsided, carefully wording his next sentence. "I'm sure Kaien would have wanted it too."

The name didn't wound both of them as much as he had expected; and his calculation was blown away by Kuchiki's reaction. Of all the possible things: her eyes widening, brimming with pending tears, but Rukia showed no sign of them. Instead of his late vice captain, he saw an orange haired boy in her eyes.

"Will he be proud of me, Captain?"

It wasn't a request for forgiveness, and reasons for grieving were finally lost. He couldn't-wouldn't blame it on the timing this time.

"No, Kuchiki." Ukitake smelled impending summer rain in his office, and for the first time in many years, he was surprised at how it didn't upset his joints. He thought of snow instead. "He has always been proud of you."


	4. 4th Division

_A/N: for notnow _

**4th division **

Summary: Kotetsu Isane, Unohana Retsu, and secrets of the Society. Spoilers up to chapter 171.

-

7th seat Yamada Hanatarou and 8th seat Ogidou Harunobu often chatted as many times as they bumped to each other in hallways of the hospital. The subjects ranged from the latest effects of deer antlers to the newest rumor of Gotei-13. This, Isane didn't find quite amusing or noticeable, until one day on her way to the Captain's quarters, her ears caught the usual chatters.

Hanatarou was holding a trophy that Isane recognized immediately, and Ogidou was taking his sweet time adoring it. Said trophy was given away at the Shinigami Women Association's latest charity event, where she was one of the (silent) spectators and Hanatarou was an honorary guest.

The 7th seat had been speechless when Yachiru pulled him up to the stage last night, (announced him as Gotei 13's most-innocent-looking shinigami, presented him with a trophy the shape of a scalpel adorned with pink ribbons) and finally stammered his gratitude and misplaced apology that were too belittling in Hanatarou's part. He had been dragged along to dance with almost everyone, showered with colorful confetti and stuffed with the best food.

"And the best part is?" Ogidou prodded, his elbow nudging endlessly at the 7th seat's side.

The best part, Isane privately decided, was when the member of Association spent their night _entertaining_ him. The amount of liquor Hanatarou had poured into his throat was getting fatal when he actually stumbled out of his chair and fell. Right on top of Soi Fong. If the Special Force Captain had been more sober, Isane probably would have another all-nighter to mend up his scattered limbs, or inform Captain Unohana about the loss of her officer. Matsumoto (The Criminal Mastermind) had laughed it off, and suggested Nemu to take a picture of the fiasco to commemorate it. Until Hanatarou trudged up and wobbled his way to Ise's lap, emptying his stomach then and there. Fortunately, he was the type that forgot _almost_ everything that happened when liquor's in his system and didn't question why his head felt like splitting up and his cheeks have grown to the size of a watermelon.

Almost. Yes, almost.

"We-well, as if, but I barely remember a-any-thing...except for Captain Soi Fong."

Ogidou's eyes widened expectedly. "What happened? Wha-t hap-pen-ed!"

Isane tried hard to suppress the idea that the boys sounded too much like a couple of gossiping girls.

"A-apparently...I al-almost t-touch-ed..." Hanatarou's voice trailed off.

"What? What? Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell meeee, the anxiety is overwhelming!"

The blush overcame Yamada's face in an instant. "I-I al-most...touch...ed...he..r...b-br...bre...east...s..."

The 8th seat actually swooned at the top of his lungs, and Iemura Yasochika barged out from the door at the side. "Keep your voice down, insolent fools!"

Isane walked away with the feeling that she had found out a terrible secret that better left forgotten. Up until this day, she never has enough heart to tell Hanatarou that it was just the breast padding that somehow had slipped all the way to Soi Fong's back.

-

Even as someone that had developed an ability to maintain an unfazed façade and unmoving eyes at the goriest of wounds and most battered corpses, it was a lie to tell if anyone could ever adapt to it. The tang of blood clung heavily at the tip of her fingernails, seeping through the gloves, applying generously to her cup as she sipped her tea after an all-nighter. The body of a dead soul never lies—they conveyed their truth to her by every engraving, unveiling an unspoken tale through the bruises and slightest cuts and swollen tissues. Laid bare, bodies could silently recite their memoirs to her. She decided she adored that sincerity, akin to normal souls. So many midnights she spent waking up to their stories, wandering down the halls of the 4th divisions quarters, and revealing yet another secret she intended to keep down the grave.

The captain wasn't the type that struck as someone who can hold her liquor, but Unohana Retsu only drank sake after every major operation. Finding out after careful observation and decades of serving the greatest healer herself, she also discovered that Unohana has taken a liking to serve the liquor in her favorite tea cup.

Sleeping pills didn't work much after a moment of euphoria or sorrow passed, and some sake brands have been notorious for their ability to knock any veteran drinker off their feet, but it could provide the upshot that some best healers lack. Isane had seen the captain take a swig of these products without wincing, and admitted it wasn't the taste that made her consume it. "It gave me a chance to rest my eyes," Unohana once reasoned. "even just for an hour or two."

Isane could only wonder how the Captain spent her late nights, as one who has went down the same path much earlier than her, tending to her lone cup of liquor and her thoughts alone.

Itegumo whispered to her about Minazuki and her master at the night she was up worrying about Kiyone and the death of the high-ranked officers in just several days in her division. Her nightmares stopped for a week. She kept dreaming about flying, one-eyed sting-rays soon after, the gentle howling and great claws that served as emergency brakes and prayed for her sanity to come back.

Unohana's exchange with other captains has been rare, but Isane has the honor to experience almost all of them herself. Some, like Captain Komamura, usually refused the annual medical check-up and fended off their offer with a written apology. But she has taken a secret liking to him. Komamura Sajin was one of the very select few of men that she actually has to look up to when she talked.

It was generally not easy to take someone whose eyes only reached your waist seriously, but Hitsugaya Toushirou made her change her mind in a blink of an eye. Apparently, it also helped when he provided the stand-up ladder himself.

Kyouraku Shunsui has a habit of showing up in a flurry of pink and black, and presented her captain with his hand made bouquet of any seasonal flower on one knee ('_For you, my lovely Retsu'_), and spent his examination hours with endless pick-up lines. He was a professional that feigned amateurism in the field, but Unohana always managed to slip out of his requests competently, from harmless one cup of tea to dinner invitations.

The rest, like Captain Aizen, was simpler. Isane adored their exchange the most. Aizen Sousuke's virtuous qualities preceded him, and she was amazed that there's one that could be so gifted and stayed ordinary about it. But somehow, after one visit, Unohana didn't think of the same anymore.

"You have the most captivating eyes, Captain Aizen," Unohana's voice was a gentle praise, "It's such a shame that you cover it up like that."

His reply was a soft chuckle. "Thank you. But as you know, I can't see very well without it."

_And neither do us_, Isane wanted to say.

"Unless you're trying to tell me that you finally created something that might render these glasses useless, Captain Unohana."

"You flatter me," her captain smiled softly. "I could only wish. I've seen such extraordinary talents possessed only by one man."

Their silence seemed to be their way of reaching an agreement, and Aizen reached out for his coat, and stopped before the paper doors. Captain Unohana took this as a time to ask. "Is something the matter, Captain Aizen?"

"I was wondering if you can have a day off? Perhaps tomorrow? And then, maybe we can go together to check out the herbs store I've been telling you about."

Never one to intrude into other people's privacy, but Kotetsu Isane found herself in a bind like this one a little too often.

"How about tonight? After my errands for today are finished, I'll visit the 5th division."

What surprised Isane more was how Unohana put up no effort to refuse; she had expected another smart reply like the captain had sent to Kyouraku.

"That sounded excellent. I'll be waiting for you. And maybe we can try out the new place everybody's been talking about. I heard their grilled salmon is heavenly." His smile, warm and bright, returned yet again. He left after bowing at her, and Unohana let him slide the door close.

Isane waited until she heard the soft sound of scribbling brush was heard from the captain's desk. Unsurprisingly, Unohana was the one who spoke first. "Is there something you'd like to ask, Isane?"

"Um, Captain...are you really going out for dinner?"

"Yes."

"With Captain Aizen?"

"Yes." Just then, Unohana rose from her seat to pour herself a cup of tea. "And from the start, I never meant to tell him that as a flattering remark, it was simply facts."

Isane blinked. "Eh?"

The steam from the tea cup framed Unohana's oval face, eluding her ever-so-mystifying beam. "They really are a convenient tool."

-

Despite Gotei 13's unwritten law of 'you don't dip your brush in the company ink', Isane has witnessed the rule broken in a rare occurrence. Kiyone's former superior officer, for one, married the former third seat. Most shinigami--even the less devoted ones--were married to their jobs, and spent the rest of the time ogling at their colleagues. Courting for after-life mates was simply a job that some found too much of a hassle for those who have no problem with aging.

Being smitten or hero-worshipping your captain was the most typical dilemma, such in the case of Hinamori Momo.

It's not a surprise for Isane to find her fellow vice captain knocking at her door later that night. Under the dim crescent moon, the lines expressing Hinamori's worry was spelled flawlessly on her face. It was hours after dinner time, and the younger girl was still in her uniform. "Has Captain Unohana returned, Kotetsu?"

Isane shook her head, her beaded strands of hair rattling against each other. "I take it that Captain Aizen told you he's going out with Captain Unohana?" There's a pragmatic pause after—even the line itself felt weirdly foreign in her tongue.

"Ye—yes... it was simply too late for a visit to the herbs store." She fidgeted her fingers anxiously at the hakama, her knuckles growing white with every nervous clutch.

"They're adults and captain class shinigami, Hinamori."

Deep breathes. "I know that..."

Distinct sound of conversation was carried by the wind to their ears, and soon, their superior officers's distinct spiritual pressure expanded to the obvious level. Their silhouettes materialized under a bamboo thicket, slowly closing in to the 2nd seats. Isane had never seen her captain looked so relaxed, with her braid at the back or even when she's sipping the strongest liquor. Serene and peaceful, she looked as if she was having the best time of her life. And—she has to admit it—it looked as if they just came out of a painting.

Aizen noticed them first. "Isane, Hinamori. Were you waiting for us?" The 5th division captain was walking closely by Unohana's side, and Isane felt a tiny shame for witnessing the moment, for her captain tactfully quickened her pace in a heartbeat, leaving a noticeable gap between her and Aizen.

His 2nd seat bowed deeply at the captains, and there was a slightest tint of varied relief and embarrassment in her stance.

"I see," Aizen muttered, reaching out to pat her head. "Let's go back."

Hinamori's blush deepened, and she was back to her cheerful self when she raised her face again. "Yes, Captain Aizen!"

"Thank you for the lovely evening, Sousuke."

"It's always a pleasure to make you smile," he added, with one of his own, "If you'll excuse us, Retsu, Isane."

Kotetsu Isane knew well when and how to reserve her silence, but some happenings just forced her to do the exact opposite. "Hinamori's a bit worried, captain." She began, right after the other officers' shadows left their lawn.

"It's natural when one sees that her likelihood of staying as the first in other's heart is in jeopardy." Retsu sighed, a mixture of joy and sadness. "She shouldn't be. Sousuke cares for her deeply."

The usage of first names also left quite the impression on her, as with the sudden overnight familiarity, but Isane couldn't find the nerve to inquire further. For someone who had kept each of her patients' privacy, keeping one self's proved to be much more difficult. Such problems, apparently, didn't happen with Unohana Retsu. She was a keeper of secrets—disclosing them has been her trade, and she kept her silence unless intended.

"It went well." Unohana informed her when they walked into the lodge.

Her own silence gnawed at her, but Isane knew well enough if she kept silent, Unohana would continue her story.

"But he did say some of the strangest things," there was an amused tone in there, and she wasn't sure if she heard the dry tone as well. "He said he wouldn't mind if I look at his bare body and say, 'oh my, is this supposed to be the real one?'"

"And the glasses?"

The captain stopped, turned her head sideways, and beamed enigmatically at her. "You shouldn't call them glasses when they don't have glass, Isane."

One look into the captain's eyes, and Isane comprehended that this one was intended to be taken to the grave as well.


	5. 9th Division

_For Nelja_

**9th Division**

Summary:Hisagi Shuuhei, Tousen Kaname and the subject of moving on. Spoilers up to chapter 232.

_-_

_We have all the time in the world,_ Kanisawa had whispered, _we will get there. _

Hisagi often played a game of make-believe with his classmates. Aoga often persisted to be a captain—usually it was the 11th—and Kanisawa insisted she should be the first female vice captain of the 11th ever. Then Hisagi was stuck playing the 3rd seat or even a janitor from the 4th, was forced to sweep the classroom until they wouldn't stop sniggering and finally exploded to laugh. The academy molded the bond deep enough for them to go hand in hand through their first years and unbroken till their last year. More often than not, they teased and talked about the long-awaited graduation, the most doable choice of division in the Gotei 13, and the likelihoods as a seated officer. They were the only two people that didn't stare at him with resentment and envy at his promised seat at Gotei-13. He had been smacked at the head and punched at the gut, but if anything, they had been proud.

It was ruined in one night, the pieces were sharp and cutting through, and he wondered if it's even all right to just keep walking on with the knowledge that his path would be bloody.

Aizen placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder after the captain finished what seemed like an endless swarm of Huge Hollows, muttering a string of soothing words: _"You've done your best, Hisagi." _

_"Chicks dig scars, ya know."_ Aizen's current vice captain back then shrugged with equal animosity, leer so damn evident even in the presence of so much blood. "_And you have all the luck that it comes in three." _

6th year student Hisagi Shuuhei woke up to a quiet shuffling outside his ward.

The late afternoon sun created a long shadow looming over his bed, and Hisagi opened his eyes a miniscule. On the doorframe, he could make out a silhouette of a man he knew. There's only one thing the Captains wanted when they made their presence known. Hisagi was convinced that the older man only came bearing bad news.

"Stay." Tousen insisted with a raise of his hand, as Hisagi forced himself up from the bed.

Groggy and fatigued, Hisagi eyed the captain with one healthy eye, and felt a prickle of pain in the other. News of field training accident traveled with lightning speed across Seireitei, and Tousen was one of the shinigami that kept his future recruits under close watch.

"How are your wounds?"

"It's getting better. I'm really grateful you came all the way, Captain, only to confirm the--" His breathing got caught in his throat. "-news after I have become such a huge letdown."

For a second, Tousen looked rueful. "Come with me, Hisagi."

Much to his own surprise, Hisagi did, following his tracks, out of Seireitei, past the great gate, over the field of lush greenery in Rukongai, to an anonymous tomb on top of a nameless hill.

The boy tried hard to suppress a sigh. He had received only compassionate looks from his classmates the moment they brought him back. Looks that simply said, 'suck it up, even prodigies can screw up'.

Tousen gave him none.

"All those that had departed, and had their future shattered before it even started," Tousen began, his voice a soft murmur, the unseeing eyes focusing on the tomb.

If Hisagi closed his eyes, he could still hear Kanisawa's and Aoga's voice, calling his name.

"Their hopes and dreams rest upon your shoulders now." the older man continued, "Will you strive for them too; or back down and return to Rukongai, carrying on with your afterlife, until the endless cycle takes you back to the living once more?"

It's not over for you yet, a voice inside of Hisagi said. A whisper escaped him, forcing him to choke back the tears.

"I didn't catch that, Hisagi."

"Will you-please-will you let me fight alongside you, captain?"

When he raised his face finally, Tousen was facing him with a small smile. "It looks like you've found your reason."

It wasn't an agreement from the captain, but at that time, it seemed enough for him.

-

Tidiness was one of Tousen Kaname's minor qualities.

Despite his loss of sight, it didn't hinder the man to practice neatness. Hisagi was surprised upon his first visit to the 9th division lodge; he had looked forward to dirty laundry, unkempt documents, and filthy floors. He was greeted by a spotless office, documents that lined up on the wall like it was part of the wall itself.

Nevertheless, he never shrugged off the very notion it was fairly empty for an office of such a high-ranked officer. As a seated officer, his first task was writing up Tousen's report by hand, as the captain narrate them to him, line by line. If he remembered now, Tousen often persisted he would write them himself, if only he has the capability.

Decades later, as a vice captain, it was the only task that he found himself still doing. With all of the workload immediately transferred to him, and at the speed he's doing, he still questioned his former superior's intentions, if he had planned this long ago. How did Tousen manage to keep all of these, or if he's been truthful all along, scheming Aizen's downfall privately, or he's only another misled puppet bending to Aizen's will?

He had seen Kira fumbling with the job and orders with his subordinates, trying to fill the hole left upon Ichimaru's leaving, and he seemed even worse than before, when he's lying half-naked on the floor of 10th division's lodge, half poisoned to death by alcohol with foam in his mouth. For a while, Kira has actually turned to Matsumoto for his rock—leaning for an ear to listen and even a shoulder to cry on—until she also left.

Going to the front line is the perfect suicide, the others kept saying. Who knows what kind of new hybrids Aizen has been developing? That surveillance team is going to come back in tiny boxes and we'll have to pick up what was left of them with chopsticks.

Kira has always seemed like he's on the verge of tears, but now it looked more like he wanted to snap. Hisagi remained in silence—watching and waiting if he'll beat his junior classman for this one particular score.

Then Hinamori regained her consciousness at last, and beat both of them to it.

The news incited Gotei-13, and it spread faster than lighting up well-oiled firewood. Calling a traitor's name in fervor was the first thing she did after raising from deep slumber.

On the day Hisagi made enough time in his demanding schedule to pay a visit to Hinamori's ward, Captain Unohana had taken it upon herself to calm the girl, telling off two of her officers that were stopping the 5th division vice captain from leaving the bed.

Hisagi remembered Hinamori was never one to plead. The girl exercised self-reliance, often prodding her friends into relying on her instead. 'Lean on to me,' her look said more than her words ever did. Hinamori's divine intervention had saved him from the shame of facing Aoga and Kanisawa again without getting their revenge done, an insubordination action that almost lead to another massacre. It took one night to the bar and limitless amount of liquor to coerce the confession out of Kira and Abarai, and he couldn't say he was glad. Honorable death didn't involve others helping him to eradicate Huge-Hollows with the ability to remove spiritual pressure. Honorable death was sometimes wagering your life for your principles, even it meant your face got smashed in at the end.

Today, her voice sounded as if her dear life depended on one simple request, her sentences looked as if they've been practiced over and over in her sleep. While she's sporting the most obvious black lines under her eyes and her legs wouldn't cooperate with her, Hinamori was requesting an early release from the hospital.

Captain Unohana didn't shake her head, as her look said enough.

"...I have to see him."

"Who?" Kira dared to ask, as though he didn't know the answer.

"I have to help him, I have to help him. I have to go help him. Please understand."

Unohana held her at arms' length, trying her hardest to understand the younger girl's plea.

The girl shook her head, probably to hold back the tears, her arms rising to catch Unohana's hand in a tender plead. Her next words sparked an old rekindling in Hisagi's mind. "I have to go help Captain Aizen."

It might be harder for Hisagi to admit now, but it was exactly the very same thought he had as he fought to stop his soul cutter sword from wavering against Tousen's throat.

There was no hint of hesitation in her voice, and as silence answered her, Hinamori looked around wildly, staring over Unohana's shoulder. "Why...why are you looking at me like that, Kira?"

The 3rd division vice captain muttered her name in a voice between a hushed cry and yelp, shaking his head, his blond bangs flinging wildly with every toss.

"What' wrong, Kira? Kira? Senior Hisagi?" Hinamori's eyes searched warily at her fellow vice-captains, determined to find the smallest signs of a reply. Finding none, she dropped her head and sunk her face into her hands finally, a choked cry escaping from her. "Somebody, please tell me what's wrong..."

Unohana took this chance to push the younger girl back to bed delicately. "Just rest your eyes, Vice Captain Hinamori," Her fingers went to caress the worry that was creasing her patient's face. "Bad dreams don't last forever."

The 9th division vice captain woke up with a start. Out of the blackness, he could make out the moon among the crack of his window and summer breeze. Aizen had left, breaking his nightmarish clutch on their senses. Trying to wipe away the sweat, he accidentally touched the long forgotten scars on his face. If he had given up on mirrors, it was because he was more than grateful to have a captain that was oblivious to his mark of failure.

If possible, Hisagi felt even worse at the consciousness.

On their second official visit, they practiced ignorance and gladness and forced laugh in their words—for a second—until she smiled, so, so weakly in her black-rounded eyes and whispered at them, "It's all right. You can stop pretending."

Then she repeated the phrasing like a mantra, like a silent prayer to convince herself that Soul Society didn't just get turn upside down, like the scar on her stomach never existed. Nobody seemed to understand that it was beyond hero worship. Nobody ever could. Nobody ever wanted to, anyway.

When he left, he heard Hinamori's quiet cry in the darkness.

-

At the end of August, Hisagi had found the Special Force's investigation squad in his division's lodge. One of them has accidentally spilled black ink all over Tousen's desk—currently his desk, the liquid dripping of the edges, creating a pool that soon smeared the officer's shoes as they rummaged through his drawers and paced all over the room.

"Just an inspection, Vice Captain Hisagi," the one with black hair told him, ripping off some pages from the bundle that Shuuhei had spent the last month organizing. "It'll be over in a minute."

There were no unturned paintings and unchecked corners by the time the Special Forces left at dusk, muttering about futile search, taking Hisagi's hand written documents, Tousen's report on the 9th division members' progress and thanking him for his cooperation, leaving black shoe-shaped ink stains on the mats that led to the courtyard. The office looked as if it was just hit by a hurricane, and the clean, orderly feeling that Tousen had maintained for decades was ruined in just a couple of hours.

The last Investigation Squad officer to leave cast Hisagi an inquisitive look, grabbed his companion's shoulder and uttered under his breath. "Shouldn't we question the vice captain?"

His partner shrugged the hand off, waving dismissively. This one didn't try to hide the dryness in his tones. "No need. It seems that Tousen didn't find him _worthwhile_ enough to be included in the schemes."

Kira and Hinamori were pitied and called fools for their blind devotion, but it was the only time he found himself envying them.

-

"We should believe in him," Komamura uttered in hushed tone, which would be considered as a meek if it was coming from someone with a smaller build. "If not, who else will?"

Long before he entered the Academy, Hisagi had dragged back his exhausted body back to a hut in Rukongai, plowing through the snow that had piled up to the roofs. It was his second year of waiting for a notification letter that never came and the first time he saw that man, standing for what seemed like hours in front of a nameless tombstone, until his dark skin turned to mauve, snow shaping into a silver crown on top of his hair.

Tousen Kaname was the first person to teach him about determination, and made sure he didn't botch his third academy entrance exam. He was the reason Shuuhei plowed his way toward the ranks. Towards him, who opted another way of salvation.

"Resignation was never an option."

Hisagi looked up to observe the giant captain again, and Komamura's fist unclenched. He thought he would be seeing blood, smelling it, but the older man's palm was unsoiled. "I'll do well to respect that saying, and make sure he does the same."

Nobody ever questioned why he never changed his soul cutter's placement, but he sighed in relief when Yamamoto put the sword forbid in effect again. It was difficult enough to ignore the pitiful stares nowadays. Shuuhei stopped comparing himself to Hinamori and Kira even, not because the thought was overwhelming, not because he would be consoled, but the realization struck him even harder. Tousen didn't involve him in all the betrayal because he cared. It's because the former captain knew he wasn't even worth the trouble.

But the silver lining was exactly the way Shuuhei wanted: of all his treacherous actions, Tousen had thoughtfully left him out.

_It's not over. Not over yet. _

"Count me in, Captain Komamura."

Something that could be mistaken as a grimace flashed through the massive captain's features, baring line of fangs, and it took Hisagi longer to distinguish that it was indeed a smile.


	6. 11th Division

**11th division**

**Summary: There's a reason why Yachiru's the president of Shinigami Women Association, and Zaraki Kenpachi's about to find out. Spoilers up to ch. 206. **

-

11th division's rite of passage was notorious throughout the Gotei-13.

Once in a while, after every batch of new recruits made it to the strongest squad, other divisions often saw the scene: a new officer in his underwear, standing on top of the division lodge's roof, screaming at the top of their lungs: "Zaraki Kenpachi's my lover, and I'm gonna have his babies! He's gonna wear Kyouraku Shunsui's pink robe to our wedding!"

Of course, the thing was just a dare from Vice Captain Kusajishi at first, but after Abarai Renji made through the ritual alive and kicking (and spent the next ten months at the 4th division), it became an obligation. This, Zaraki Kenpachi could endure with a well-swung swing of his soul cutter, even the high tolerance for pet names, but he has less lenience for screeching woman in his division lodge. It didn't help when every Sunday afternoon as almost every higher echelons of Gotei-13 barricaded themselves in one of his meeting rooms, and sang the songs of unrequited love and pure hatred for the suffocating tyranny of men.

Nobody gets in the way of a beast and his afternoon nap, plain and simple.

So it was no surprise when one day the doors of 11th division's meeting room 3 were torn down as if they were tissue papers, and almost every female shinigami shrieked or made a move to hide under the desk at the sight of him.

Yachiru was an exception. His vice captain only stared back at him with an innocent look, tilting her head to the side. "What's wrong, Ken-chan?" At her back, Ise Nanao was trying her best to imitate a chair.

At the wall of 11th division's meeting room 3, there was a large banner in _pink_, the girliest color he's ever seen was hung, spelling: 'Come to our bake sales!'; and pastel-colored confetti filling the floor. And cake, countless slices of colorful cakes on top of the desks, smearing cream all over. So much for feminism in the den of men. He wanted to shout: "_What's wrong? This IS WRONG! GIRLY THINGS IN MY DIVISION LODGE! BAKING PIES IN MY NOT-SUPPOSED-TO-EXIST KITCHEN! PAINTING EVERYTHING IN HERE INTO GODDAMN PINK!"_

"We need to talk later." he said simply instead, leaving the girls to their meeting.

There's a huge sigh of relief from the meeting room as he spun on his heels and left, Ikkaku and Yumichika mumbling something about Yachiru's endless tantrum and promises of nasty teeth marks on his scalp.

-

"Find another place for your meetings so your nails-on-chalkboard quality singers can go scare the living day lights out of someone else, and I can have my nap in peace."

Yachiru pouted. "But, Ken-chan! We've had it here for years, and looking for one isn't as easy as it seems!"

"I don't care."

Yachiru wanted to make a face her captain knew too well. Pretty soon, if he didn't say something comforting, it was gonna be water-works, and in his experience, calming a crying Yachiru was more difficult than putting out fire from Ryujinjyakka. She opened her mouth, preparing for the loudest screech, and Kenpachi reached for his ear-plugs.

Much to his surprise, nothing came out. He had faced Yachiru's countless tantrums over the years, and this experience baffled him to no ends. The girl quietly made her way out, dragging her sword along, the wheels of her sword softly creaking with every turn.

"Oy, Yachiru."

She turned around, watching him through a film of _tears_. "Yes?"

"If you need company..." Zaraki scratched his head awkwardly. "you can always ask."

The brightest, widest smile spread on Yachiru's face, and in a split second, she hopped on to his back. "YAAAAY! Let's go, Ken-chan!"

Of course he realized her comeback was too sudden, but it didn't really matter to him. He missed the smirk Yachiru was making behind him as well.

-

At the lack of woman in the male-dominated Gotei-13, Zaraki Kenpachi sneered. Only a few made it to elite thirteen-squads, even less in the higher ranks, and they usually didn't worth the trouble they're inviting along.

"Oh my, oh my, if it isn't Captain Zaraki. Have you come to let yourself be in awe of my works today?"

Yachiru watched as the invisible vein in Kenpachi's temple throbbed. "Fortunately, no." He replied, fixing his stare over Kurotsuchi's head.

"It seems that Captain Zaraki and Vice Captain Kusajishi are here to inquire about borrowing a room, Master Mayuri."

"Shut up, Nemu, I don't remember allowing you to talk." Mayuri's glare snapped back to Kenpachi's face in an instant. "Please pardon me if I didn't offer you anything to drink or any place to sit. As you can see, it's very crowded in here."

Yachiru eyed the trinkets and scattered limbs she couldn't place, filling the floor.

"I'd rather stand and cut the small talk. The pansies' organization—your vice captain's a member of it, right? Think they can use a space here?" Kenpachi said.

"My my," the 12th division captain shook his head in disgust and gave his daughter a dirty look. "One always says that when you're asking a favor from someone you didn't even want to be in the same room with, you should do so with a bowed head. Or better, _on your knees_, Zaraki."

"Want me to snap your neck, Kurotsuchi?"

"Such brutality. How about a little contribution? Probably fifty of your seated officers, they don't need to have complete limbs or organs, I still accept damaged goods. Then I might, you know, reconsider..."

As much as she craved to see Kenpachi wreaking havoc, it was for the sake of everyone in the vicinity that Yachiru immediately dragged her captain out of the place, as both captains had reached over for their respective swords.

-

"It's a pigsty."

They didn't share their thoughts very often or have shared tastes over many things, but at the sight of the 10th division's office, Kenpachi and Yachiru voiced it in unison.

That was, until they saw the pile of garbage shaking at the edge of the couch. Yachiru thought it was a rat. Kenpachi didn't give a damn, until he saw the size of the lump emerging from the mountain of garbage was human-sized.

Matsumoto shook her head, pulling out bits of crackers out of her hair and looked at them sleepily. "Hey, it's Yachiru and Captain Zaraki!" she waved lazily at them. Then she blinked. "Am I still asleep?"

Later, when they've announced the real intentions, Matsumoto nodded her head in assent. "I'd love to help, but such agreement can only be confirmed by captain himself."

Hitsugaya arrived at the end of her sentence, his brows immediately furrowing to a more irritated look. "_Matsumoto_," he started murderously and Yachiru was very, very sure the temperature in the room dropped like mad, "what did you do when I was gone...?"

The blonde stared at her captain with a playful look and pointed at the visitors. "Look who's here, captain!"

The silver haired boy shot Kenpachi a look. "Captain Zaraki. Speak your business."

Yachiru watched the vein twitching steadily on the little captain's forehead. "We're here to borrow a room for the Association's meetings, and Ranran said only you can give permission!"

The twitching stopped, and returned with a faster beat. "I'm sorry, but the answer's No." he snapped back to his vice captain. "What did I tell you about maintaining office hygiene, Matsumoto?"

Zaraki wedged himself in front of Hitsugaya, effectively blocking Matsumoto from his view. "Look, kiddo. We came all the way here, and for a certain reason, Matsumoto's also a member of that sissies group. I think your division should contribute a meeting room at least."

"As far as I'm concerned, Kusajishi's the President of _that_ sissies group, so in my opinion she's entitled to more effort. And it's _Captain_ Hitsugaya." He pushed Kenpachi out of his way. "Matsumoto, you better start cleaning this up or--"

Once more, Hitsugaya's view was blocked. Zaraki bent down to hiss at his face. "Listen, _Captain_--"

"Look, old man, LOOK around you!" the 10th division captain raised his arms irately, motioning his surroundings. "Do you see any space around you? If you can find even one, I'd gladly _give_ it to you!"

For the first time, Kenpachi took a very good look at the office, noting the mountain of garbage. At the corner, one of the empty chips bag rustled violently, and a black furred, long tailed creature scurried away.

As they left the 10th division's lodge, Yachiru humming quietly to herself, she heard the loudest roar. "MATSUMOTO! NO PAYCHECK FOR YOU NEXT MONTH!"

-

As she always recalled, Kenpachi had always resented having his options for anything limited. The view of 8th division's office was curt and clean, much like the vice captain who had opted to call her President at almost every given chance. Nanao took her job a tad too seriously.

"You should've consulted to me from the first place, President. I'd gladly offer the assistance." Nanao pushed the glasses up, nodding her head.

Then, the loudest, most cheerful voice she'd heard for the first time ever since she went around the place. "Keeeeeennn! Yachiru-chaaaaaannn!"

Kyouraku's robe billowed at his back at his grand entrance, and Yachiru smiled widely at the 8th division captain. "Shun-shun!"

"I've heard, Yachiru-chan. Please, use any of our meeting room as you see fit. We've only been using them for boring, useless meet--"

"What Captain Kyouraku meant to say is, that we'd gladly lend you one of the meeting rooms, Captain Zaraki."

"Isn't she thoughtful, my Nanao-chan?" Kyouraku suggested happily, intercepting her deadly glares with his not-so-furtive winks. "We're gonna have so much fun together!"

Yachiru bobbed her head excitedly.

The 8th division captain reached over to pat her head and cooed at her. "You'll grow up into a _fine young woman_ indeed, Yachiru-chan."

Pause.

From her perch on her captain's shoulder, Yachiru, however, didn't miss the look that flicker between Nanao and Kenpachi.

Ise started, quickly ushering them to the door. "Our deepest apologies, Captain Zaraki, but we're very sorry that we couldn't help you."

Zaraki spun his heels as fast as he could to the exit. "Gotta go, Kyouraku."

Shunsui stared back and forth between his vice captain and the other captain. "Huh? Why are you leaving so soon? Keeeeeeennnn! What happened to the plan to invite the ladies to _my place_? Come on! We're gonna have so much fun together! Keeeeeen, please come baaaaaack!"

-

"As much as I'd love to, Captain just retreated to his room, and we'll do nothing to disturb his rest."

Zaraki pulled Kotsubaki Sentarou up by his collar and hissed to his face. "You think I don't need my nap as much as he does? You will call Ukitake here," he continued as Sentarou eeped. "Savvy?"

"No, Captain Zaraki, we're very sorry," Kiyone chirped in, "And please feel free to slice and dice Sentarou here as you see fit."

Sentarou almost screeched. "Oi, chimpanzee, watch what you say!"

Kenpachi groaned in annoyance. "Then you're both going down."

"No need to do that, Zaraki, I'm already here." Ukitake said, appearing in the doorway, "Will you please let go of Sentarou?"

Kenpachi released his clutch on Ukitake's third seat, who instantly sucked in breaths like a broken vacuum cleaner. "My day is truly doomed when I actually need help from a sickly man like you."

"By all means, I'm always willing to help, as long as it's within my power." Ukitake chuckled, though it came out sounding like a cough, and at the noise, both his 3rd seats perked up with lighting speed.

Before all of them knew it, Ukitake was being wheeled back into his room by Sentarou and Kiyone. "Hey, hey, Sentarou, Kiyone, what are you two doing?!"

"Please, captain, let us take care of the rest! We can't let you handle such trivialities when your health is concerned!"

"But I--"

"No need to worry, captain, we're here!"

"I feel fine--"

"No, captain, we can't take any risks!"

"Wait a min—"

As they watched the captain and his 3rd seats leaving in a fit of protests, Kenpachi turned to the girl on his shoulder. "Wanna wait?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Are they coming back?"

"Hell no."

-

Despite the fair distance they've traveled, he was fairly surprised they didn't get lost on the way to the 2nd division. He didn't rely on her sense of direction when his nap was concerned.

Soi Fong was out of her coat today, practicing her kicks with her Vice Captain. "I don't see what the problem is," she said while evading Oomaeda's fist, and intercepted with a swift kick to the side of his face, sending the bulky man flying to the wall with a sickening thump. "Kusajishi herself is the one who volunteered to be President and the meeting rooms were all her idea."

Kenpachi glared back at her. "She never had my consent. All of you just waltzed in and just have to sing about testosterone territory in the industry of the death. I. Need. My. Nap. Back."

"Oh my, you didn't even try to dismember us. I wonder if it's that time of the month for you, Zaraki?"

He watched Yachiru bouncing cheerily on top of a battered Oomaeda's stomach from the corner of his eyes. "Like the one you have _every_ day? Nah."

The female captain shrugged. "In the 2nd division, we settled everything with performance. Considering your latest _treachery_, Zaraki, as the head of the Punishment Brigade I simply can't approve."

"Tch."

"Want to settle this here and now?"

There was never a moment where Zaraki Kenpachi would back down from a fight. It was only probable in another lifetime. But attacking a woman was beyond him. He'd leave Soi Fong and her cheekiness for later, and mocking her black-cat fetish was one of the best ways to exact revenge. "Naah, I don't hit sissies who dig pussy. Cats."

Half an hour later, half of 2nd division's officers were desperately holding their captain back, begging her to stop, while she pranced furiously, Suzumebachi drawn and screaming for murder.

-

Yachiru had only seen Kenpachi cried once. It came out as a pathetic, ear-splitting curse at first, his voice eventually cracking to a hoarse tone, and diminished to a silent sobbing that left Kenpachi's eyes moist with miniscule tears. She had cried herself to sleep countless of times back in the Zaraki district, but experiencing Kenpachi's tears was her foremost, and she hoped it will be the last time.

In her heart, she knew she had done the right thing by letting Kurosaki Ichigo live. And silently, she also knew that Unohana Retsu was an almighty woman who had silenced those cries. The way her captain has been avoiding to run into the 4th division captain by any means possible has taken even her attention, especially when Zaraki finally resolved to shunpo-ing instead of running through the halls when Isane waved at her from a very great distance.

Of course, it would take more than the usual coaxing to get Ken in to Unohana's lair. They stopped in front of the white building sporting the 4 kanji, and Yachiru somehow could hear Ken's heartbeat quickening as they stood watching the letter, prominently sending some random, passing by 4th division officers into a frenzied 'Eeeek! I'm going to die!' run.

"Keeen-chaaaaaaaaan..."

"I'm not done yet."

"You mean memorizing the number? It's been half an hour."

"There's no way I'm going in there."

"But you said not trying is the same as losing."

"This isn't the same, and I'd rather face Old Yama's bankai."

Five minutes later...

"Please drink your tea, Captain Zaraki, or it will get cold. Or perhaps I should serve sake instead?"

Kenpachi shifted uncomfortably on the tatami, watching Yachiru riding on poor Hanatarou's back (who was on all fours) at the front yard, crying shrilly "Go for it, horsey!!"

"No thanks," he replied, trying to swallow a lump in his throat. "I'll try to keep it short."

"Whatever the problem is," Unohana smiled softly, "I'm willing to listen."

He eyed Isane, who understood immediately, and excused herself.

"That day, when Yachiru called--when you arrived at the white tower--"

He trailed off, watching her sip the tea from her cup delicately, but not breaking their eye contact.

"I wasn't sure if I'd witnessed something embarrassing there, but I give you my word that I won't tell anyone. For example, I didn't inform anyone that you cr--"

Instantly Zaraki Kenpachi was on his feet, fighting the blood rushing to his face. "I DID NOT CRY. I WAS SCREAMING. GET IT? I WAS NOT." For the love of adrenaline rush, how much he wanted to right now.

"I understand perfectly if you were sob—"

"I'm NOT sobbing."

Somewhere from the front yard, they heard Hanatarou crying, "NO, VICE CAPTAIN KUSAJISHI, PLEASE STOP THAT!"

"...sober." Unohana sighed gently, placing her cup down. "That day, your spiritual pressure had diminished greatly. My division was stunned by the news of your defeat—but I saw that it was only the beginning of your next winnings."

Kenpachi almost grinned, and realized that she had caught him off guard, in a room where Unohana had insisted no weaponry was allowed, save hers because Minazuki was medical-oriented. He could have insisted that his sword could prove as a better way to extract blood, but Unohana had gently pried the sword away from his fingers and placed it against the wall.

"Yachiru needs a room for her siss—Association's meeting."

She was his last hope, and though she might not look like it, Unohana was known as the Steel Butterfly in the Gotei 13. In his heart, Zaraki wanted her to accept, though he knew the chance was worse than a chance in hell.

"I'd love to help and provide what you asked for, Captain Zaraki," she started slowly, stopping when she heard Hanatarou shrieked again. "if there are rooms. You see, lately someone _crashed_—forcibly entered my hospital in search of some drifters in my care, and in the process, knocked down some walls, injured several of my officers, and ruined about half of our medical equipments. And to think," Unohana opened her eyes to stare into Kenpachi's, who was trying very hard not to gulp. "That person didn't even come to apologize."

There was a terrible, blood-curdling shriek from the front yard, followed by a childish giggle.

Fifteen minutes later...

"How much cash do we have left, Ikkaku?"

"About ten thousand... why are you sweating so much, Captain?"

"Shut up. Give it all to Kotetsu from the 4th division."

"What?! Why?!" Fortunately, it only took one stare from Zaraki to silence his 3rd seat. "Got it. Anything else, Captain?"

"And if the money isn't enough, ask them how much they need and we'll cover it."

As much as Ikkaku wanted to repeat his questions again, he thought hard about his survival and stopped himself. "Okay."

Kenpachi readied himself to leave, but the question rolled off Ikkaku's tongue eventually. "Did Captain Unohana ask you to pay for the property damage, Captain?"

Yumichika was seen running frantically through the halls of the 4th division much later, dragging along the 3rd seat's mutilated body.

-

Paper thin doors, Kenpachi thought as another song about male tyranny drifted through the draft of his bedroom door. He leapt up to his feet, and went to the meeting room (the number 11 was blocked by a large 'Shinigami Women Association Conference Room' in pink), again tearing down the doors, sending the female shinigami crying for help. Except this time, Ise fell out of her chair.

He stared at the non-changing, effeminate aura around, and stared at his vice-captain, who stared back at him, holding a parched paper of their latest song lyric.

"Ken-chan?"

He sighed and scratched the non-itchy part of his scalp. "Try to keep it down, okay?"

"Okay!"


	7. 5th Division

Summary: Ichimaru Gin, Hinamori Momo and Aizen Sousuke, and the thin line between compassion and cruelty.

-

In the first light of morning, you feel an elbow jabbing into your stomach as the familiar weight settled on top of you. Through the years, you didn't feel the need to open your eyes to greet the newcomer. Her touch was already imprinted on your skin like the shape of her face on your memory, and you know it better than your own.

"Wake up," she whispers teasingly into your ear, "_Vice Captain_ Ichimaru."

"I rather not. I think you just broke two of my ribs."

She playfully nips your ear and giggles. "I'll take that as a compliment, for being able to ambush the Vice Captain in his sleep." She rolls off on top of you and snatches the badge that you had left beside your folded uniform, and runs her fingers on top of it. "Not as good as I expected."

You get up from your bed and watch her golden mane reflecting the morning sun, creating a halo of light around her head, blinding you temporarily. "It's not like I'll be wearing it everyday. And even if I do, I think they'll still notice a Rukongai rat in new uniform and vice-captain badge."

Shrugging to herself, she places the badge down and throws her arms around your neck, pushes you back to bed, easing her curves into yours. "It takes one to know one."

Then she digs one hand between your bodies, and smirks knowingly. "Do you think Captain Aizen will excuse tardiness on your first day?"

"I think not," you reply, feeling her curves under the uniform, untying the knot of her sash somewhere along the way. "but it's worth trying for. If he ever wondered I'm not a quality being for--"

But by then she's kissing you, and you can feel her reply with a grin rather than hearing it. "Oh, Gin. Everybody knows that already."

-

When you're still a freshly promoted captain along with another son of the nobles, you often pass him by the corridors along with his new pet: a fair, petite bunny with wide, bright set of eyes and the most adorable expression of fright.

You've never seen such a delectable prey, not since Hinamori Momo.

It was long, long after the news spread like a wildfire throughout Seireitei, of a certain noble's demise in the hands of his subordinate, and as expected, bad timing on Ukitake's side. She showed up with her head raised, and just for a second, her hand stills at the sword's hilt when she notices you, and you know why: the impregnable wall wasn't there to protect her.

"Been a while, Rukia-chan. Have you been taking a vacation?"

She nods her head at you, maintaining a blue-blood's nobility. "Greetings, Captain Ichimaru. No, it was a _disaster_ back at the 13th Division." But her eyes tell you everything, the tears she'd shed in her sleep, the haunting warmth of a beloved one that seeped away with the rain. "I'm sure you're informed of it."

"Right, right. Poor Shiba, slain at such a young age..." Pause for the effect, as she grits her teeth and tries not to flinch. _Oh no, no, no, this is just the beginning_. "I hope you're dealing with it the best way you know how."

"I'll be sure if I understand what you're saying, Captain Ichimaru."

"Now, I know how you want to please your dear brother. But I'm sure you don't need to do that to dear Shiba," You sigh, long, lowering your face to her level so that each word can be heard clearly. "He would probably give you his title if you just _ask_ him nicely."

There was a stench of blood coming from her clenched, trembling hands, and you can feel the edge of your mouth widening.

-

Autumn is the scent of dried persimmon between your fingers.

Like it or not, curiosity is what draws you to Aizen in the first place. Though one summer day, you learn that understanding him might be better without looking at all.

A reverse manifestation is produced each time you try to figure him out, reflecting back everybody's gaze at him. He's soft spoken and kind. _He's not really like that._ He's hiding behind that soft smile. _Those glasses are just a mere decoration._ He's a more ideal shinigami than even the descendants of major nobles themselves, _shaped in the most ideal outline that they unconsciously wanted to be._

In your eyes, he's as faultless as a dream. The depiction breaks as soon as one opens their eyes. Nobody before you even seems to try, and Tousen only learns the truth through his handicap.

Tilt him a bit to the side, and you find it, the man who uses tenderness both as a drug and as a weapon. Apply it with the right amount and at the right time, he'll get what he wants: a puppet, soft enough to bending to every tug of his strings. Over the years, the image Aizen creates is caressed into a soft indigo bloom by the adoring gazes of most students and his shinigami fellows.

Seeing is believing, they used to say.

His surrounding was polished with a painting-like kindness, with a gentle, twisted finishing touch. The effect has been knee-dissolving to everyone. For all his talk about the grandiose conspiracy, Aizen still has a spot soft for his precious little doll, with her eyes curious, big and round, if not more than her use. Hinamori adores him above anyone, and comprehends nothing of him.

All possible compliments aside, Aizen once admitted that you're the one who understands him the most. "You're always so treacherous when it comes to tenderness."

"And you," Aizen accused, "are so generous when it comes to cruelty."

Your round of obligatory snide remarks comes in tandem – usually when it's just the both of you, Kaname commenting about spiteful annotations are not much to his liking, Aizen starts with his favorite line. "What kind of fun do you have in mind today, Gin?"

"Plunging the world into pandemonium," you'll answer.

He clicks his tongue patiently and whisks his fore finger in front of you. "Not very creative, are we? How about world destruction?"

Inside the glass tube, a Hollow is crouching in a fetal position. Aizen dug his hand into the cylindrical glass, earning a soft groan from the monster. Then you realized he is looking at you - squinty eyes, long fingers, dark complexion, grotesque features that show no trace of the human it was – you can make out that much from the creature.

Aizen pulls out his hand and the tube explodes into tiny bits. And suddenly the monster was raising his long, skeletal fingers, aiming his neck. Before it makes a move for the Captain's throat, Kaname has sent it down to the floor, Suzumushi posing at its neck. Flat on his back, the creature moans again, but this time you realize it is a disguised chuckle.

"What is your name, comrade?" Aizen's voice is a mixture of thrill and delight – until he traces the creature's spiritual pressure – it descends into a disappointed baritone. Just another failure to his already extensive collection, but his craving for perfection never seems to be quenchable by their quantity.

The monster sniggers again, pushing itself up and eyes at the three of you with amused look. That's when its head suddenly splits open.

It only happens for a split second, but the transformation is what you'll remember for decades to come. And instantly it was a woman in a humble robe in front of all of you, the perfect oval face framed by the long black strands, smiling with a very meek face. His voice is confident and timidly effeminate when he speaks.

"I am Grand Fisher," The woman-version of the Hollow bows respectfully, "Master."

You hear Kaname's almost silent choking at the Hollow's voice, and his sword falters for a split second. Beside you, Aizen lets out a pleased sigh.

"I'm about to send this one to the living world, Gin. As my _vice-captain_," there is an emphasis on the last word, "your duty is to guide me from being astray."

Somewhere along the years, the line is cynically translated as '_In accordance to the Gotei 13 squad rules, you have to show me the path of order'._

"My function is also supporting you at my fullest extents." Your smirk to him is the first genuine one for today. "And I don't do futile things, Captain Aizen, just as simple as that."

-

You start your on and off love affair with malice in your days as Aizen's official second-in-command man. The full-blown commitment, however, manages to wrestle firmly in place after the last promotion. Your reason to Aizen is that of balance, in front of his kindness, the cruel mask is what tips the scale in equilibrium. Over the years, people are scrunching up their nose, eyes widening in dread, and takes a step back before scurrying off as they lay their eyes on you. All the while, you enjoy the consideration and it helps being so flippant. Nobody ever dares to play a blinking game with you.

As a child you always know where your next step is, even with eyes closed, you see more than the rest of the world do. Once you've known such a thing as warmth to exist, you'll fear coldness the more. They say that when you forcefully remove something that has set its root too deep in you, you'll die. A part of you did that night, gently crunching the purity of white under the weight of your footsteps. You never look back, though once in a while you're enticed to do so.

Winter smells like the mixture of pallid masks, staining the inside of your nails. It's snowing at Soul Society when you meet her again.

One look in to her face and you realize you're not out of form with the commitment yet, with the ever so brilliant eyes widening at the very sight of you and the slightest thinning of shade in her cheeks. Here is a prey, clutched in place by her own fear.

"Vi--Captain Ichimaru," she nods deeply at you.

"It's been a while," You step closer, lingering at the body's warmth, and her shocked breath leaves a trail of white fog in the air. "How are you?"

"Um, I'm a vice captain now."

But of course - you're already aware of _your_ old badge even from a mile away. "Ah, congratulations." Pause for cruel effect. "Always hardworking, as I expected."

The rosy tint returns as she ducks her face, but as she raises it again, you see the obstinate look that never really leaves her. "Thank you. I always hope that I can one day be as capable as Captain Ichimaru did."

Mentally, you envisage her daily journal entry, written with a special brush and in a flower scented ink: _"Dear diary, today Captain Aizen just told me that he wanted to spend more time with me. I think he might start loving me. Do I dare to dream?" _

"Naah, you'll surpass me in no time," laughter wraps the end of your sentence. "Any difficulties?"

"Captain Aizen is a superior that I could ever hope for, Captain Ichimaru. To me, he's a... miracle." Her last word is swathed with the all-too-familiar sensation, and an almost unnoticeable dreamy sigh. Even without trying, you discern that she sees Aizen more than a superior, and wishes that it won't go unanswered. Something in you prickles to poke at that.

It will just be the shame of a lifetime to miss.

"If that's so, let me share a little secret, Hinamori-chan. Think of it as a favor from your predecessor. You see, Captain Aizen--" You lean down, until you can almost feel her ear against your lip, and the sudden leap of her heartbeat pace. Her cheek is soft and cold. "--can sometimes be very demanding on bed."

Minutes pass as Hinamori try to determine that lie, and you watch the adorable visage gyrating to stone-like, and she doesn't reply as you take your leave. More or less, you decide, Aizen will need more effort to relive her faith in him again.

After all, he always needs the practice.

-

In the long hours, the Central 46 Chamber's rang with your incessant conversation. Kaname regarded his shift in the Central Chamber's with impassiveness, the lack of spiritual pressure and the acrid tang of blood must be more noticeable by the unsighted, but he draws apathy on his features. The indifference grows to displeasure when you mock him delicately as you catch him bending over one of the dead judge's face at your shift change. He despises your second thoughts, and as he brushes past to the door, shunpo actually forgotten, his voice is under his breath.

A gush of summer wind breezes between you, bringing a scent of watermelon and at first you think you hear the first cricket chirps at the beginning of the night.

"Did ya say something, Tousen?"

The 9th division captain scrunches his nose. He learns that fake smile means naught, when he can distinguish people's reaction through his other senses. In darkness, it is easier to discern lies. Kaname is sensible, in a way that you probably will never learn to appreciate.

"I have people to meet again, Ichimaru." He repeats, tone firm and hushed, meaning every word. "Just like you do."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're saying..."

Facing you, he gently walks past, captain's cloak billowing in the summer night's wind. "Even if the only thing left to say is goodbye."

-

"The tenth division captain has failed."

Aizen's hands still briefly against the rims of the scroll, the bad report seeping like ink on paper, and he continues his inspection after sparing you a glance. "That child is more worthless than I expected. What exactly happened?"

"Even the most perfect plan has flaws," The wounds on your left arm are none of his concern. "Captain."

Futility is something Aizen sees with half an eye, like his spectacles, neat and stone rimmed, will be rid of once it serves its function. Just as simple, he separates the shinigami to his use and not to his use.

You practice cruelty hourly, recite it flawlessly in your sleep and all of a sudden find it difficult to force beyond the past.

_You see Shinsou crushing slowly against her sword once again; stand half rooted in your position. Then she looks up from Hitsugaya's face to you–not cold, not angry, just from a great distance, as though she is still somewhere far away and always will be–and your**heart** sinks. (Such an idea is preposterous, and you're sure you never have use for such futile things.) _

_She hasn't just come back to aid her captain. She has come back to stop you. _

_They say chrysanthemum is a strong flower that can withstands rain with its entire strength, even the rain of blood. _

"She's special," you utter, as the truth prickles under your skin. "To you."

With one swift movement, Aizen sweeps the folders and scrolls off the desk, sending Urahara Kisuke's research documents across the floor. He is impatient, when the goal is barely in the grasp of his fingertips. "So you think I should meet Hinamori again, Gin?"

The sensation of murder is as beautiful as love. That is what your (former) captain teaches you, even the strings of death, he says, in the hands of your loved ones will be woven into a most magnificent end. You don't question his wisdom in this act of one last kindness. Then you lick the tip of your finger, and instantly hear her gasp in your ear again. There is no lingering attachment to the Society that you hold.

"Yes. Even if the only thing left to say is goodbye."

Just one.


	8. 8th Division

Summary: Ise Nanao, Yadomaru Risa and Kyouraku Shunsui, and leaving behind a legacy.

*

Few thought of this practice now, but at the first of every month, the youngest member of a division would come and visit their vice captain, seeking advices and guidance of how to and such. Some calls it nurturing the young buds, training and shaping the youngest to be the most ideal for the division.

Yadomaru Risa of the 8th division was not a conventional person, but she practiced this age-old tradition, one that has borne many high-seated officers.

The room smelled suspiciously like rice wine and gloss paper when Nanao arrived at the division office that night. Vice captain Yadomaru was sitting behind her desk, her chin propped on one hand, nibbling on a rice cracker. She was reading those colorful graphic novels again, the one that has many nearly nude figures with suggestive positions and eye-burning graphics.

It was not Nanao to peek, so Vice-captain Yadomaru showed it to her instead just to quench Nanao's curiosity. But in her young eyes, 2nd seat Yadomaru Risa of the 8th division was wonderful—she was exceptionally skilled in kidou, her prowess with a zanpakutou even outrank the male seated officers, and her vocabulary was so extensive. And on top of all that, she kept the notorious slacker captain in line without even breaking a sweat. It was a great wonder to Nanao up to this day that Vice captain Yadomaru was willing to take her into the division and took great care of her.

"Oh, is it 8 already?" Risa said when she saw Nanao's head at the side of the sliding door. "What are we going to read today, Nanao?" She rose to her feet, revealing long legs beneath the black skirt, and pushed the book into a shelf behind her.

"Anything you want, Vice captain Yadomaru," she answered, fighting hard to nibble her lower lip, seeing Risa massaging her shoulder and stifling a yawn.

"Did you bring anything of your choice?"

"If-if vice captain's too tired, next month should be okay," Nanao quickly countered, hiding the book at her back.

Risa walked forward, however, and grabbed the book her junior officer was hiding. Her eyebrows didn't even raise a notch as she read the book title loudly. "Tale of Hikaru Genji."

They walked back to Risa's quarters while Nanao busily explained and stammered that this was a famous classic literature and one should have insights of such things at early age. Risa just smirked and tousled her hair.

"Ah, Yadomaru-kun."

It was Vice-captain Aizen, along with the child prodigy, Ichimaru Gin. Nanao had known and seen his shocking talent at the academy, the hordes of students and onlookers had swarmed at Ichimaru's early graduation, and each of the seated officers from almost every division was sent for his recruitment. Nanao remembered, as it was through this way Kyouraku's squad resorted for her instead, the bookish girl with slightly-better-than-average kidou techniques.

"Aizen," Risa nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Captain Kyouraku awaits you in the division office."

"Thank you," The brown haired man smiled, "And is this the rumored Ise-kun?"

Nanao quickly bowed. "I'm Ise Nanao, of the 8th division, Vice-captain Aizen."

Risa drew the covers up to her waist when they reached Risa's room, and Nanao slipped under the thick blanket, propping the book on her laps, readying to read the first passages.

Between their shared interest, Risa chose to be a listener this time. Nanao stumbled across several kanjis that were beyond her, scribbling each kanji's meaning and correct pronunciation in to her notepad as Risa explained them to her.

At thirty minutes to midnight, Risa blew out the candle beside her futon and tucked Nanao in beside her.

"Are you happy in the 8th division, Nanao?"

Nanao heard herself stifle in the darkness. "Why the sudden question, vice captain?"

"Just somethin' that crossed my mind when I saw Ichimaru. Recent rumor I heard was that he eliminated the current 3rd seat and took over his position in just a day."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Nanao wondered.

"He's about the same age as you," Risa scoffed, "I don't know what is Shinji thinking, but putting someone so young under such heavy expectations tends to mess them up. There's something in that child's eyes that troubles me."

Closing her eyes, Nanao pondered at the idea of telling her vice captain that Ichimaru was already messed up way before he was recruited in to the Gotei 13.

"I like being in the 8th," Nanao answered to the ceiling instead.

"Uh-huh."

"And I like Captain Kyouraku, too."

"Uh-huh."

"What about you, vice captain?"

She felt her vice captain patting her head before slipping further in to the blanket. Right before she drifted to sleep, Nanao heard a mutter of "Yeah, me too."

The next month, she waited for her mentor until midnight to find her captain, telling her in a quiet, low murmur that didn't suggest that Risa was on a dangerous mission and not coming back for the next century.

*

Ise Nanao has never been in this much predicament, not ever since Ayasegawa Yumichika had came to her, flicking back the elaborate colorful eyelash, and said he would have the honor of gracing the Shinigami Women Association as a brethren.

Nanao shook her head and blinked at the word 'Obliga' on top of the half heart-shaped chocolate staring back at her, the morning after the events of treachery that almost threw everybody's afterlife in Soul Society upside down. It was mid-summer, definitely not the season for something as sweet as chocolate. But Captain Kyouraku loved sweets, and especially, had told her repeatedly and excessively to the point of even stalking her, how much he expected one from her last February 14th.

Though, of course, she also half expected half of her 'Obligation' chocolate to be missing.

Not that she was planning to give it to anyone, after six months. Even in the fridge, chocolate tended to whiten at the edges after a long while, and it was the only successful batch she ever made. Other than that, Nanao was more occupied at the large bite marks on the chocolate. The divisional fridge has never been a good place to store hidden feelings-er, food-because every so often there would be starving officers coming to the kitchen late at night and devour even the year old cheese. But not when they see their vice captain's name on it.

Behind her, Enjyouji Tatsufusa let out a loud, cacao smelled burp. "Ahh, that was a nice meal!!"

Slowly, Nanao turned to stare at the sight of her division's 3rd seat officer wiping his mouth on his uniform's sleeve. "Enjyouji, did you happen to see a chocolate in the fridge?"

There was that prominent gulp that could be heard even from Nanao's distance, and Enjyouji rushed out of his chair to flap his hands desperately, his french braids flailing with each shake of his head. "What chocolate?? I didn't see any heart shaped chocolate that has the lame 'Obligation' written on it, vice captain Ise! Aha-ahahah!"

Nanao wasn't listening to his babble, as she was too busy focusing on the chocolate stain around Enjyouji's mouth. When she rose to her feet and closed the fridge's door, the last thing in Enjyouji's thought was how beautiful Vice Captain Ise's eyes were when she removed her glasses, glinting like bubbling lava and painting his sight with red.

*

"He's missing _again_? Maybe you should put him on a leash or something. Mine sauntered to the men's room, like, _two_ hours ago. I should drag him to the 4th for a bowel check up when he comes back."

Rather than saying thanks and going on her way, Nanao paused to stare over Rangiku's shoulder where Kira was prancing topless on top of Hitsugaya's desk, his fundoshi's cloth flinging wildly with each dangerous leap to avoid sharp stationery, singing 'All by myself' in falsetto. Usually, she would have berated them for the impropriety of getting smashed before lunch.

"We're currently celebrating. C-E-L-E-B-R-A-T-I-O-N," the voluptuous woman reasoned, more to herself than Nanao, and the 8th division vice captain stopped herself from saying it sounded more like Lamentation.

Glancing sideways, Nanao stood closer to her. "How many glasses?"

"Oh, it's just our third," the blonde wrapped her arms around Nanao's neck, pulling her closer until Nanao's upper arm were trapped between Matsumoto's extra, extra flesh and the alcohol-reeked breath blew into her ear, "--_bottle_. You should join us, Nanao. Let your hair down for once, we're--"

"NO, thank you. I have a choc—an errand to attend to." Nanao managed to wiggle free from the deadly twin's clutch, and paused to stare at her fellow vice captain sprawled at the division office's window frame, sloshing the liquor bottle in her hand around. "Did you find the thing you're looking for at the bottom of the bottle?"

The blonde's smile dropped for just a heartbeat, and she continued to run her fingernails at the windowsill. "No...t yet. But I _will_."

"I hope you'll find it in time."

"Thanks, and you too," Matsumoto's tone dropped into a playful one and she added a furtive wink. "Remember, for Captain Kyouraku, it's the _thought_ that counts."

*

"This time, I brought you a pot of tea to share," Kyouraku took out a teapot and two cups, placed it down, and raised his own cup after pouring one for his companion. "Here's for your recovery."

Chad took his without questioning, and they clicked their cups together. "Hm," the younger man muttered, watching the view of post-Aizen's treason Soul Society, some wreckage here and there, and the occupants looking tired but hopeful. His wounds were fully healed, and he made a mental note to find the time to visit Yuichi before leaving. And here he was, making amends with the only man in Soul Society who injured him over a cup of tea on a rooftop.

The captain raised the brim of his hat to look into his companion's eyes. "No hard feelings, right?"

A shake of head. "Mm."

"How do you find Soul Society?"

His companion placed the cup down, and long, unperturbed silence followed before he laced his fingers together. "Nice."

Kyouraku laughed, a playful low pitch that sounded like an old children's song in Chad's ears. "Even after it's been shook down. I wish you could see it when it's peaceful. Done anything fun lately?"

"…Yesterday, this guy with a number on his face said that he wanted to know how to play a guitar."

"I don't know what's a queeter or whatchamacallit, but it sounded like you found a new friend. Friendship should be treasured, Yasutora-kun. Enjoy every moment, as life's too short to waste on trivialities."

There was a pause as Chad stopped to inhale the tea's fume. "Kyouraku-san, are you sure this is plain tea?"

"Of course it is! Though I've recently used it to smuggle some sake in there so I could drink in office hours and forgot to wash it ever since. ….What's wrong?"

Chad has raised one of his index finger to point at somewhere behind Kyouraku's shoulder, so he bend himself over to find the upside down sight of his vice captain's annoyed face.

"Hellooo Nanao-chan! Isn't it a nice weather to be drinking on the roof?"

Contrary to his early expectations, Kyouraku was glad that Yasutora-kun saved his tea/sake-pot and the cups instead of him, because, well, who could endure the lady armed with such a large tome?

*

"The recruitment forms need your signature, and some supplies forms need to be renewed, we're scheduled to hold a divisional meeting next Monday and your inbox tray has ants crawling in and out of it."

Even when his cheeks were swollen beyond belief, Kyouraku still managed to grin excitedly and leapt with a neck breaking speed towards the said tray. "So that's where my liquor bon-bon wen--Huh?"

"The expiration date is April last year," she pushed her glasses up. "I already put it into the incinerator."

"_SO_ cruel, Nanao-chan~"

"Surely you're not thinking of consuming it and suffer food poisoning, Captain? If that's how you want to skip these paper work again, I'll go to the 12th this instant and procure a vial of the strongest poison from Captain Kurotsuchi himself."

Managing a weak grin, Kyouraku reached out to grip Nanao's hand gently from across his work desk. "But you know liquor goes ripe with age, my sweet Nanao-chan," his fingertips made trailing, soft touches on the back of her hand. "Just like your captain over he---yeowowowow~"

Through excessive pinch she's been exercising on the back of Kyouraku's hand, Nanao finally got hers back. She pointed to the stack of disordered papers on top of Shunsui's desk. "Captain. Recruitment forms. Now."

"After one sip of my shirazuke here," he pulled a jug dangling from his waist, and actually managed to unplug it before Nanao leapt across the desk and grabbed the jug's neck with a dead grip.

Her eyes shone an evil and wicked glint that could silence even a cackling demon, but Kyouraku only used this chance to-again-_touch_ her face in a way as their faces-especially their lips-were mere inches apart. "Nanao-chan's eyelashes are so long from this up close." His tone suggested that Kyouraku expected her to lean over the desk and render herself half vulnerable and at his mercy.

But even one century of knowing Nanao didn't make him anticipate the next move; as with one swift moment, Nanao grabbed the thickest, heaviest object she could snatch from Kyouraku's desk, or in her case, the division accounts book, and smashed it against her captain's already puffy cheek. Nanao was pretty sure she dislodged one or two of his molars when she left the division office with a heaving breath, ignoring the moans of 'but I'm thirsty ~', and 'now my teeth hurts'.

When Nanao stepped back into the office fifteen minutes later with a tray in hand, Kyouraku was miraculously sober and _working_. He had even stacked the forms neatly to each category without a scolding.

"Nanao-chan, I finished organizing," he said in a singsong voice, "Now can I go outside and-"

"No."

"--drink?" Kyouraku finished hopefully.

"You can drink this," Nanao placed down a mug beside the forms, "I'm sorry for being half a year late."

The 8th division captain peered into the mug and inhaled the fumes of the brown liquid before taking a sip. "…It's chocolate."

Nanao's smile was unfaltering. "As sweet as you like it."

For a second, she dreaded the possibility of Kyouraku getting off his chair just to wrap his arms around her and grope her body parts in a way of gratitude, but instead, he grinned to the mug. "I often wonder if you still remember."

At first she thought he was talking about the stupid V-day and capitalism ideas planted in his brain by greedy chocolate companies, but Nanao noticed the mug she purposely used to serve the hot chocolate. It was stamped with words of 'property of 2nd seat, 8th division'.

Unconsciously, she let her eyes wander to the spines of classic erotic literatures on the bookshelf that Shunsui had secretly hid with scrolls of division members' report and her desk-_Her_ desk- that used to be covered in senbei crumbs.

Nanao fingered the hard cover of the tome she's been carrying for years, and looked at her feet. She'd probably never match her predecessor's battle skill and beauty, but her loyalty, devotion and dedication shaped and molded by the early months with her mentor was unquestionable. She could only hope that vice captain Yado--no, Risa--would be feeling unspoken pride if she saw her now. "I could never forget, Captain."

A century worth of waiting, Nanao suspected, was enough. Everything's revealed, they will eventually get to the truth--

Seconds passed as Kyouraku stared into his mug, and suddenly broke the ice by saying "Does this mean my sweet Nanao-chan wants to give me an indirect kiss? I wouldn't mind a real one~~" with the nerve to even wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at that.

She calmly pushed up her glasses, and replied with an icy smile that could match Sodeno Shirayuki's initial release, "Only if Captain still wants to retain his ability to sire children in the near future."

While Kyouraku Shunsui, Gotei 13's most notorious loafer captain was gulping silently and continuing his paperwork, Ise Nanao, vice captain of the 8th division, managed not to let out a triumphant grin and mentally chalked up her most recent achievement under 1: Making the newbies File Alphabetically and 2: Promoting No Liquor hour, as 3: _Rendering the Captain speechless_.

_A century worth of waiting indeed_, Nanao thought again, and she has to smile at that.


End file.
